


We Are Not Them

by AnxiouslyGoing



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Academy Era, Discussions of Past Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, aba therapy mention, autistic!Leonard McCoy, possible eating disorder tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:20:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26489308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnxiouslyGoing/pseuds/AnxiouslyGoing
Summary: Pasts are tricky things. Sometimes they sneak up on us, causing us to do or say things...we would never have imagined ourselves doing. But there is always room for healing
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22





	We Are Not Them

"Well, Jim, I dunno what to tell ya," Leonard sneered. "Ya can eat it or starve. It's not like-" the words died in his throat. Had he really just said that? Len shook his head. "Jim, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-" 

Jim didn't seem to hear one way or another as he stared vacantly at the bowl in front of him, arms folded over his stomach, and shoulders hunched over the table. 

"I didn't mean that, Jim. I'm sorry," Len tried to back track stumbling over his words the whole way. "I never meant- It wasn't- I had no right- I'm sorry." Leonard stood and darted out of the mess hall. 

Gaila stopped him with a grin just at the door. "Hey! Where are you and Jim sitting?"

"I need you to stay with Jim a while. I think I messed up and I don't- I just need you to stay with him, ok?" 

Gaila nodded. "Yeah, sure. Are you ok though?" 

"Thanks, Gaila. I'll see you later." And with that he was gone again. 

Leonard was decidedly _not_ ok, but he had a sickly feeling he was doing a might bit better that Jim was at the moment. Of all the stupid things he could have possibly said to that poor kid, he probably said something that Jim had actually gone through. They'd known each other _six months_ and Len was already chasing him away. He'd been so careful to avoid moving to quickly around the kid, and even did his best to mind his volume, all those things one has to be mindful of when living in close quarters with an abuse survivor and he _still_ managed to mess things up. And of all the idiot ways to go about screwing things up he had said the one thing he always hated growing up. Leonard shoved aside the memories. It was selfish of him to reflect on his own memories with the phrase. He was the one who'd gone and shoved his boot in his mouth. Jim was the one that was hurting. And he'd be _lucky_ if Jim opted to forgive him. He certainly didn't _deserve_ it. 

\----

Len glanced up when Jim sat on the floor by the desk he was huddled under. "Are you ok?" 

"Jim, I'm sorry-"

The blond shook his head. "Are you ok, Bones?" 

"I'm fine. Jim, listen-" 

"I know," he cut Len off again. "I know you didn't mean it and I know you're sorry. I know, Bones. It's ok."

"No, it's not. I had no right to say that to you."   
"No, you didn't," Jim agreed. "But we all say stuff we don't mean. We all say stuff… we were told as kids and it doesn't make it ok, but it makes it…understandable. I _know_ you didn't mean to hurt me. Honestly, I'm starting to think you're not actually capable of that. Gaila told me you were pretty upset when you left."

" _You_ were pretty upset when I left," Len pointed out. "And I'm sorry I did that too, by the way. I should've made sure you were ok first." 

Jim shook his head. "You don't have to keep apologizing, Bones. It's ok." 

Len bit his lip and nodded. "Ok," he said quietly. 

" _Thank you_ for apologizing," Jim offered. He watched Len carefully, trying to get a better read on what he wasn't saying. 

Jim worked his jaw thoughtfully. "When I was..." he shrugged, "sixteen or so I, uh, I was not really feeling the best, had a headache, and was kinda nauseated and...was having a hard time eating. And Frank...wasn't having it. So he took the bowl of cereal and threw it against the wall. Told me if I didn't like what was in the house, I was welcome to starve." 

"Jim-" 

Jim glanced over his shoulder to Bones. "When was the last time you heard it?" 

Len shook his head. "It doesn't matter." 

"Yeah, it does, Bones. It wasn't ok for you to hear it either. I can't tell you the number of times I've caught myself thinking the same things that Frank said to me. It's...it's a hard habit to break and I don't hold it against you." 

"I'm sorry," Len said quietly. 

"I know, Bones. I know you didn't mean it, and, honestly...you looked about as upset as I did. So I _know_ you didn't mean it, I know you feel bad about, and I know that you've been hurt with that phrase before. So I'm not going to hold it against you, and I forgive you. And if you need someone to listen to, I'm here for you." 

"Thanks." 

Jim smiled and lightly shoved Len's leg. "Thanks for apologizing. Still getting used to that, but I appreciate it." 

"You deserve it." 

"And you deserve to cut yourself a break. So take a breath and relax, ok?" 

Len nodded. 

"Good." Jim watched Len for a careful moment, he could see the debate the doctor was having with himself and waited patiently for him to speak. 

"I can't eat oatmeal, something about the texture... just can't quite bring myself to eat it. My mother tried to make me when I was younger, and well, she figured it was like the eye contact thing or the body stimming. If I worked hard enough at it, and stopped being dramatic about it, I could manage it. And she tried. For almost two days. My dad was away on a business trip, something about hospital administrations or something, he never really like the therapy, but my mother wasn't someone to be argued with so, we did the therapy. And mother decided that she was going to fix my problem with oatmeal. I'd try to eat and couldn't, she'd get upset yell at me for it, tell me I wasn't getting anything else till I finished that bowl. And I never did. My dad came home and found me crying at the kitchen table. He made some toast and went to talk to mother about what was going on. I don't think I ever saw oatmeal in the house again." Len shook his head. "I should have known better-" 

"Bones." Jim took his hand. "We're not the people who raised us. They left marks on us, and sometimes those marks come out in ugly ways. But we are not them. I'm not gonna hold those scars against you, anymore than you would hold them against me. We've both been hurt, and we're both healing. So let's stop feeling guilty for those scars and move on, ok?" 

Leonard smiled softly and shook his head. "You'd make a great psychologist, y'know that?" 

Jim grinned. "Yeah, that's what happens when you're stuck living with one. We good?" 

Len nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, Jim." 

"You're welcome, Bones." 


End file.
